


per sempre

by EgoDominusTuus



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Backstory, Biting, Bonding, Bottom Will Graham, Fingering, M/M, Marking, Mating, Pack, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Psychic Wolves, Smut, Top Hannibal Lecter, but will wants it, hannibal may or may not have drugged will, initial bonding, initial meeting, non-con elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:14:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29409642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EgoDominusTuus/pseuds/EgoDominusTuus
Summary: Will and Hannibal share a bond that can't be explained, that won't be denied, that will last forever.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 49
Collections: Hannigram, Psychic Wolves for Lupercalia





	1. Painted Red - Hannibal

**Author's Note:**

> These were written to be three different stories, but I realized I could put them all together <3 Enjoy!
> 
> First and second chapter are shorts of backstory. Third chapter is the smut <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Hannibal found his brother.

The wolf pup had come to me when I was a young man -- after I'd come to America, and after I'd settled in to the profession and life that I wanted to live, as far as all appearances were concerned. Balthis did not appear from a pack of pups that I let myself find. He wasn't a creature that I picked out.

He came to me while I was slitting the throat of his mother's sister. Her eyes were wide, and the wolf had been taken out of the equation in a swift motion that filled me with regret, but had been a necessity. She'd been tall and cream-colored, and I could see the near delirium in her eyes from her sister’s  _ tender care _ . It was one reason that I’d chosen her.

Rudeness was epidemic -- cruelty even more so. She'd kicked the bitch while she was pregnant and had no problem with the motion of it. It surprised me that any of the litter survived at all.

But as blood ran down my face from the arterial spray and I let out a small, disgruntled noise for the mess of it, I felt something against my leg.

Soft.

Lapping.

Licking at the blood that dripped down my trousers.

His eyes were a deep maroon, and he looked up at me with no hostility, no anger at the fact that I'd just killed his mother.

Only an understanding and a _ hunger. _

His mind was more intelligent than many of the patients that passed through my office. 

I knelt with careful ease and took the pup's face in my hands, looking into his eyes carefully. 

He smelled like blood and spice. 

"Are you hungry, Balthis?" The name rolled with ease from my tongue, and I knew it was his. He pressed his head forward, licked a droplet of blood from my cheek, and whined softly.

He looked half-starved, but he had manners when whispering in a cool voice that  _ yes, he was. _

I looked at the body before me and tried to recall any knowledge that I had of wolves and their dietary needs. I was certain that there would be more than enough that I could prepare him something fresh and healthy. It just meant that I needed to harvest a bit more than I would have normally.

"Shall we get to work then?" My voice was full of warmth and delight at the sudden connection, and his calm presence in my mind. And in much the same appreciation for me, he sat down, cocked his head to the side, and gave one low whine of  _ yes. _


	2. Sugarspun - Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Will found his sister.

The wolf pup was one of the first animals that I took in -- she was actually what started my need to adopt strays. They had rejected her from her pack for being too small, too little to feed. I watched someone throw her into the trash, and I waited until they'd gone back inside before I picked her up, discarded atop a box of pastries.

I wasn't sure if she was alive at first -- she was a tiny ball of black with a white underbelly, and she smelled like sugar. Her eyes were barely open... but they looked up at me with need and recognition, and I knew she was  _ mine _ . I wrapped her in my jacket and took her home with me and spent the next few weeks bottle feeding her until she was healthy and strong... and by then, her voice was a tiny thing in my mind and I knew she was the sister that I'd never known I could have.

I thought I was too strange to have a bond, but apparently necessity breeds circumstance. She was mine, and I was hers. 

And after that day, I couldn't pass up an abandoned stray when I saw it on the streets, in the woods. Anywhere, really. They all needed to come home; they needed to be part of my pack, my family. Because they were the only ones that I had. 

I named her Andrea -- I called her Drea. She still smelled like sugar to me every time that she came to press against my side when I needed to be calmed and centered. In her head, I smelled like ink and sweat. 

In her head, I was a snarled, tangle of thoughts... and she knew if she came to me and pressed tight, she could take away some of the sting of it, some of the horror of it. There were nights when I tossed and turned, soaked in sweat... and I woke to the feel of her heavy weight against my chest, of her calming thoughts pouring through my mind.

Some nights, she was the only thing that kept me from screaming.

When I had bad nights like that, I would wrap my arms around her and bury my face in the scruff of her neck, where she smelled the sweetest. It wasn't always perfect, and it didn't really solve the issues that I had... but it made them easier to deal with.

And in the end, that was all that I could really hope for.

The downside to her being so amazing to me was that she had to deal with how I saw the world. Like everyone else who worked for the FBI, she was with me at all times. Your partner was your brother or sister, and no one expected you to go anywhere without them.

So, when I walked into a crime scene, she was there, too. When my eyes closed, she saw my design. 

Her head would cock, sometimes she would whimper from the bloodlust, or the anger. But she would come and stand beside me without touching -- in those moments alone, she did not try to comfort me. She just let me be; she was a cool presence at my side, and every so often, she was even included in what I was seeing.

After all, a killer would frequently use their brother or sister in the picture that they wanted to paint. They were connected.

And in those times... her low, rumbling growl would frighten anyone who was around her. Her slender frame was small, unimposing in comparison to so many of the larger male wolves who were around; yet the sounds that came from her throat were enough to make even the bravest and ballsiest of them back off.

She truly was the perfect match for me. 

After particularly rough cases, we would both need time away -- and when I finally needed more than just a little time away, she seemed only too happy to go with me. To the woods. To my house. To the pack that we'd adopted. 

Back to nothing but sweat and ink and sugar. It was what I truly wanted, I thought.

And for a while it was -- until we were pulled back by Jack.

Until we were evaluated.

Until I looked into Hannibal's eyes and Drea looked into the gaze of the broad, white wolf with maroon hues named Balthis, and we both realized that maybe we were wrong.

Maybe we were _ very  _ wrong.


	3. Made For Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal knows who he wants as a mate, and he won't be denied.

Will was a sweaty mess. It wasn't hard to ascertain what was happening, but he was a little shocked that it was happening so soon. He usually had Drea's heat down to a science, and it wasn't hard to make sure that he was closed somewhere far away from the prying eyes or scent of anyone who might have taken interest in her. 

Now, though, he was just coming off of a crime scene... and he felt the perspiration tickling his brow... heard it when she whimpered from the back seat of the car.

He couldn't stop his eyes from widening… couldn't stop the soft little sound that pooled from deep in his chest at the sudden sensation that was developing somewhere deep in his belly.

Not only was she going into heat, but it was coming on faster and harder than anything that he'd felt before.

"What's going on?"

_ Wrong _ .

The word was tangible in his mind, and Will's eyes were wide. He knew that he wasn't going to be able to concentrate to get to his house at this rate... but he didn't want to be in the middle of a squad of FBI agents and all of their brothers when this happened. Jack Crawford's wolf was stout and older, a deep gray with proud eyes that had looked at Drea since the moment Will had brought her around.

He shivered at the thought. He couldn't -- no, he wouldn't allow Jack Crawford’s wolf to smell the heat rolling off of her. He shut the car door decidedly, let out another low shiver and groaned.

"Don't worry. I'll figure it out." 

The most that he could think to do was  _ drive _ . He wasn't sure where he was going, but  _ anywhere _ would be better than here. He still had blood on him from the crime scene. He still had the images of a killer dancing behind his eyes, tickling at his senses.

He couldn't do this.

He  _ wouldn't _ do this. 

He wouldn't let this happen to either of them. 

The whine in the back seat told him that if he didn't hurry, he wasn't going to have much of an option, regardless of what he  _ wanted.  _

While he was trying to decide if it was actually safe for him to try to drive at all, there was a sudden flurry of motion, hands on his shoulder very carefully pushing him over to the passenger seat.

The hands were familiar, and his body instantly reacted to them. Hannibal Lecter was actually one of the only people who _interacted_ with him; it was a sensation that his body was used to, one that it craved simply because he was a tad touch-starved. And just now, those hands were cool and sure, and the voice that came out was firm and commanding and directing.

"You're in no state to drive, Will." And that was a statement that he couldn't deny. Most things that Hannibal said were truths, though. He leaned against the seat and closed his eyes, brought one hand up to cover his flushed face -- there was a moment of the door in the back of the car opening and the sound of a larger animal getting in. And then a low, quick whine from Drea.

Balthis.

Of course, Hannibal had his brother with him. But Will couldn't do much more than he was right now, and in all honesty, Hannibal was a preferred choice to Jack any day.

"I need to go home," Will said the words softly, his palms still pressed against his eyes as though he could somehow press away the urges that were roaring through him with his palms. 

"Is that what you need, Will?" Hannibal's voice was lighter than it should have been, given the circumstances. The car was moving now, and there was a small bit of relief crawling its way up Will's chest. If nothing else, he'd gotten away from the squadron of people who he worked with day in and day out. If nothing else, he would be spared that embarrassment.

But...

"I don't know what's happening. I usually have a better read on when Drea is going to..." he twitched in his seat uncomfortably, his nostrils flaring wide and his hips writhing and jerking against his seat belt of their own volition. In the back seat, the intermingling scent of the two wolves -- a female in heat and a virile and capable male who was pressed close to her was nearly overwhelming. His sister's desires were there, pounding at the back of his lids as certainly as any crime scene could unfold.

For a span of time, Hannibal was silent. It was strange, because he usually had input on any situation. Will had been sure that he would have something to say about the sudden heat, about his seeming loss of time, or memory of when it should have occurred. There was nothing of the sort though -- only that cool, steady calm and the growing and nearly overwhelming sensation that was pounding through his head, though his chest, spiking at his hips.

There was only one word, and perfect control spoken within it. And it wasn't to Will.

It was to the wolf in the back seat.

"Soon."

_ Soon _ ?

The near fever that was roaring through his body didn't allow him to instantly understand the implications of the word, but instinct was driving through him, and  _ soon _ sounded like torture in the wake of the fact that the word  _ need _ and the word  _ now _ was pounding in tandem at his temples.

But they were pulling into a driveway then, and only a small fraction of trepidation in the back of Will's mind recognized the fact that it was entirely too soon to be his own driveway, which was where he'd asked to be taken.

His eyes took a moment to focus and realize where they were.

Hannibal's home.

"Wh..." Will had to clear his throat to speak. He still hadn't managed to pull his hands down from his face so he could focus on what was happening. "What are we doing here?" 

"I'm keeping you safe, Will." Hannibal's voice was very calm, very careful, and it was only now that the engine had turned off that Will could hear the nearly purring undercurrent to it.

He didn't have to be able to read a room well to know that Hannibal had caught scent of the heat, that his brother's need was washing through him. The psychologist was simply under more control than most, and he'd managed to get them here... to this secluded location, before he let it peek through so Will could see it.

Taste it.

Feel it.

"Hannibal?" His voice was soft, confused, with a small keening whine beneath it that he hated but could not control.

"Come." He stepped from the car, walked around. There was a moment of the car door opening behind them and the sound of the wolves scattering. They ran -- Will had no illusion that they were leaving for any reason other than to mate. 

_ Okay?  _ His sister's voice was a high whine in his mind, and he could appreciate the fact that she was trying to hold herself back, to check on him even as her need was throbbing so violently in her body that he could tell it was painful for her to ignore.

He wouldn't let her hurt. Not for his own dignity.

"Go on." He murmured the words of ascent, and then finally struggled to open his eyes. To look at Hannibal who was staring at him in such a proprietary manner that his entire body clenched tight with the sight of it. 

He groaned, and he couldn't stop it when his own car door was open and hands took hold of him, half dragging and half picking him up. There was a blur of motion and movement, and the feel of cool air against his skin.

They were inside, and Will had enough of his mind about him to hear it when the door locked loudly. 

"Hannibal?" His voice was a bit ragged, and in the back of his mind, he could sense that Drea and Balthis had found somewhere to settle down. Instinct and pure, animal desire was going to take over soon and there was nothing that Will could do to stop it. His eyes drifted up, helpless, to the man that was still pulling him forward in a nearly calculated movement.

It felt even more calculated when they came to a bedroom -- when Will found that the room smelled soft and sweet and clean, that the bed had been prepared for two.

"Will. You'll do best not to fight your own desires. Don't worry," Hannibal's hands were already shrugging him out of his jacket, and almost as though he were in a fever dream, Will could do nothing but limply roll against the touch of it. His shirt followed next, and the low, hissing moan of  _ need _ that ripped from him when Hannibal's fingers skated over his bare chest would have been embarrassing, if not for the fact that it felt  _ so good _ . He'd honestly needed something like this, for  _ someone _ to touch him like this, for  _ so long _ . He'd never allowed his body to be taken during Drea's heat. 

He'd kept himself  _ to  _ himself until he felt like an island that was inaccessible.

Hannibal laid him back against the bed, and the look in his eyes told him that his carefully constructed isolation was about to be broken.

"It has been some time, hasn't it? Don't worry, Will..." Hannibal was carefully unfastening the buttons of his shirt -- his vest already laid neatly on the chair beside him. "I will not ravage you, or take your dignity." He pulled his shirt open, folded it just as neatly and laid it beside the vest. "But I will give you what you need."

Vaguely in the back of his mind, he was aware of the fact that Hannibal had more control than anyone that he'd met in his life -- that anyone who smelled the heat, who had a brother that was currently circling and mounting a bitch-wolf, would have fallen on top of him and not taken the time to fold their clothing neatly into a pile before lowering himself onto the bed.

"Wh--" his voice was soft and dazed. His breath caught hot in his chest when Hannibal leaned his head down; he ran his nose along his neck and jawline in a warm line that made his entire body clench and jerk again. "How?" He couldn't formulate the entire question, but Hannibal chuckled against his skin.

"You deny yourself and it makes you needy, Will. I have both denied and indulged -- I am in control of my mind, of my body..." But his hands shifted upward, trailed along a sweat-slicked chest and dove downward to Will's pants, found and released the belt there as though Hannibal, for all of his words and seeming stoicism, couldn't wait. "I knew that this heat was coming, and I prepared myself. I will not waste the opportunity to have you in all of the ways that I desire." Hotter still, his teeth grazing his neck now and biting for just a moment at his pulse until Will groaned aloud. "All of the ways that you need and have denied yourself for far too long."

He couldn't think around the feel of the hands on him, the teeth on his neck. In the back of his mind, he could tell that Drea was willing with what was happening, that she'd had her eyes on Balthis for some time as a strong mate who could defend pups. The pups were important to her, even though they were just some hypothetical thought... and Will knew that at least in part he was to blame for her strong protective instinct.

He was aware of the fact that he would keep them all safe and sound until they wanted to leave, or until they found a sibling. 

But a good mate was important for that... and Drea seemed to think that she'd found it. The thought echoed in his head for a moment, but it was drowned out when Hannibal's teeth nipped at his neck again, his shoulder -- the sensation pulled him back down into the dark depths of need and want that was consuming him, and he barely managed to make his eyes focus to see the man knelt in front of him.

How had he known, though? How was he prepared for this?

None of this made sense, but Will couldn't take a breath to wrap his head around what  _ design _ was currently unfolding. All that he could do was feel it when Hannibal stripped his pants from his body, shivering in the chill of the air until the doctor's own nude frame covered his. Somehow, the good doctor had lost his pants along the way, too.

"H-Hannibal?" Will's words were a hot gasp, and his eyes fluttered shut even as he tried to  _ question? protest? _ he wasn't sure anymore, and it hardly mattered. It wasn't as though he could blame him for this situation -- when the heat came, you didn't have a choice -- his head was thick with that thought, and any suspicion from earlier had faded away in the wake of the warmth boiling through him. Their wolves were mating, Will could feel it behind his eyes... and he could feel it burning inside of his body, along every nerve... it was was the thing that was setting his body on fire because he'd suddenly gone from being starved for touch to having warm, practiced hands smoothing along his hips, parting his thighs.. 

Every graze of his fingers was so much more than it would have been for another person -- Drea's heat was making his skin so sensitive that he felt like he was going to burst. His need to  _ feel _ someone touching him this way was making his head  _ spin. _

Will felt so  _ lost.  _

_ And yet, he had never felt so found as when Hannibal touched him. _

Those careful fingers slipped along his hips -- there was the popping sound of a cap, and when they returned to his body, slid between his legs to find the untouched opening there, Will whimpered for just a moment at the coolness of lubrication.

"Will," Hannibal's voice was more rugged than usual, the accent just a touch thicker for the desire that was clouding his mind, "This will feel strange for only a moment," he leaned in close, so that his larger body completely covered Will... so that there was just the press of his fingers against the tight ring of muscle and his eyes filling everything that he could see. "And then you will be mine -- we bond like the wolves. There is no separation between us after this." 

And though he might have cared somewhere in his right mind, at the moment the only thing that Will could think of was how good Hannibal felt, how much he  _ wanted _ this. "Yes..." He gasped the word out without thinking, "Please?" What grasp on dignity he had was falling to the wayside of dozens of small touches, what felt like hundreds of sidelong looks. This felt  _ right.  _

The  _ please _ seemed to stroke straight through the man above him. There was a near predatory flash in his eyes, and then Will felt pressure for a moment, tight and hot and uncomfortable -- a finger slid inside of him, and for a moment he caught his breath in a hitched gasp. He'd never felt anything like this, he'd fucked a few times, but it had always been with women. It had always been a mechanical motion that had to do with  _ need _ and rarely with  _ want.  _ And even then, it had been entirely too long since he'd done even that. 

The sensation of that one digit was enough to nearly unravel him -- but the feeling of Hannibal's mouth smoothing along his chest, teeth nipping here and there to draw whines of need from his chest completely drown everything else out but what was happening -- what he wanted to happen.

What he wanted to happen forever.

Hannibal  _ was _ much like a wolf in a sense. His mouth explored Will's torso, his neck. His nose inhaled his scent, and Will could do nothing but squirm and writhe beneath the touch. He closed his eyes tight for a moment as a second finger joined the first, but the scissoring motion in tandem with Hannibal finding his mouth and kissing him slowly, his tongue parting his lips like he'd found some lost treasure, was more than enough to make him forget the pain in lieu of pleasure. 

And then there was something  _ other _ than fingers -- something larger and more pressing, and Will found himself writhing for it, wanting the sensation of  _ completion _ that he knew would come with it. His eyes opened wide and he found Hannibal poised over him; his eyes were intense, raking over his frame, memorizing the image of him hot and sweating beneath him, possessive and claiming. It made Will feel vulnerable and  _ seen _ all at once, until he brought one hand up to run through his damp hair and the other stretched upward, reached for Hannibal and streaked down along the muscled lines of his chest, came to rest over the thundering beat of his heart which was the only thing that betrayed how  _ much _ he felt in that moment.

The word came from his chest unbidden yet again, "Please?"

And Hannibal jerked in reaction; he spilled downward, and pressed his forehead to Will's until he felt like he was spiraling forward into his eyes. He was lost there, trapped and enraptured and when Hannibal pressed his cock forward and spilled inside of his worked and prepared body, Will hissed out in pleasure and tried to close his eyes.

"No," Hannibal's voice was a sharp demand. Until that moment, Will hadn’t realized how much his body, his mind  _ needed _ that sharpness, that commanding voice. It left him caught in the words, "Look at me. Let me  _ see _ ." And that was all that he could do. He fought to keep his eyes open, fought to allow the vulnerability that he would normally bury somewhere in his mind to lay naked on his face as Hannibal thrust forward and against him, started to work inside of him and claim all of those untouched places while he simultaneously claimed emotions and thoughts and feelings that Will had never thought another person would touch.

It was all for him though -- all for Hannibal as he stared down at him and cradled his face and kept their eyes locked. 

It felt like his soul was leaving his body and falling forward into that gaze, getting wrapped behind the complicated eyes that seemed to reveal everything and nothing all at once. 

The hand cradling his face slipped behind his head, gripped his hair and kept their gazes locked -- he wasn't sure where the other hand was going until it snaked down between their bodies. The fingers that so delicately played the harpsichord seemed to be made for extracting sounds; when he seized Will's prick, he keened high and needy, the music of passion that seemed to be perfectly on pitch. 

"That's right, Will... your body was made for this," Hannibal's voice was still low, that dark purr that seemed possessive and piercing all at once. "Your body was made for me."

And in that moment, he couldn't disagree. All that he could do was writhe his hips and look into those endless, fathomless eyes and let himself completely fall, vulnerable and needy, into the pleasure that was pouring through him and the desire that his sister's heat had awakened within him.

Hannibal's hips picked up their pace, caught a beat that followed his thrumming heart. They worked harder and faster, angled until Will could feel the length of him beating against the center of his pleasure, making starburst for behind lids that he still hadn't been given permission to close. He was going to fly apart, and the hand carefully working his prick was only making it worse. His hands came up, gripped to muscle and sweat-slicked flesh, tangled in soft hair -- he couldn't think, he couldn't breathe around what was building inside of his torso, in his chest, chasing around the beat of his heart and the synapses of his nerves until he couldn't take it anymore.

"Hannibal, I--" He gasped, his body rocking forward, aching more. Every muscle was trembling, every inch of his frame riding the pleasure of the cock that was pounding against him, the hand that was working his length... and yet... and yet...

"Let go." Hannibal's words were a demand, and it was what he'd been waiting for. Rapture roared through him, and he only just managed to keep his eyes held wide, his gaze desperate and wild as his orgasm overtook him and his tip spilled white ropes of liquid against his torso, against Hannibal's fingers.

And then there was the heat in the eyes of the man above him. Seeing Will lose himself seemed to have pushed him over the edge. His composure was gone -- all that was left was the animal, the beast beneath. And he bared his teeth and lowered his head to the junction between Will's neck and shoulder and bit down.

It was hard, rough -- enough that Will could feel when it drew blood... but the sensation was dulled by the saccharine pleasure still roaring through him... and then dulled further when Hannibal growled against his shoulder, his tongue swiping the wound, and thrust one last time.

There was a burst of heat inside of him, a kaleidoscope of lasciviousness that swelled and devoured him... and there was the knowledge that Hannibal had not just fucked him.

He'd claimed him with a mark that would turn to a scar. He'd painted him inside and out and seized something in his mind that Will wasn't sure he would ever be able to take back.

And he wasn't sure that he wanted to.

The man above him collapsed, pulled Will until he half laid against his chest. He was breathing hard, but Will was panting. He buried his face against his _lover --_ such a foreign word \-- aware somewhere in the back of his mind that Drea and Balthis were curled together, joined... and aware _everywhere_ in the front of his mind that he and Hannibal were much the same. 

_ Made for me.  _

_ Mated. _

And at that moment, Will's mind was at peace, floating in the wave of finally having a sense of somewhere he  _ belonged _ . 


End file.
